Frank- The Wonder Dog
Frank - The Wonder Dog
My Wonderful Frankie
I keep coming across hubs written about some of our most beloved family members, our pets. I thought I would share about one of the best friends I have ever had.
I have always had pets around the house, since I was a small child. Many of those pets “followed me home.” Of course, there was usually a rope tied around its neck or it was struggling to escape from my arms, but they all followed me home.
The longest I had gone without a pet was when I moved in with my husband. At first we both had cats, but both cats ran away never to be seen again. For more than a year after that, I was without a pet. I wanted a pet! My husband hadn’t said we couldn’t have one…the opportunity had just never really arisen to get another one. Until we moved to a smaller town with a bigger house and a bigger yard.
Then I began my search for a new pet. I looked through the newspaper for free pets. I searched the humane society. I read internet classified ads. And all to no avail. Then one day, I was complaining about the fact that I NEEDED another pet. I missed the companionship a pet can give you. A friend and co-worker spoke up.
“I have just the pet for you!”
I was skeptical. This friend has a bigger heart for pets than even I do. She lives in the country and counts as her “pets” a collection of goats, cows, chickens, and other such farm animals. She also has cats and dogs, but the stories she told about her these “typical” pets led me to believe that she would not want to part with any of those.
“Okay,” I said, “What kind of pet?”
She began to tell this story. She and her son had been walking down the dirt roads and saw this home that was now abandoned. She knew that there had been people living there and that they had moved out a little over a month before. She had once tried to befriend the people that lived there, but they were the type of people that wanted to be left alone, so she really hadn’t known them. She had also always admired the house, and talked her son into going closer to the house to get a better look at it. As they got closer, they thought they heard noises from inside the house. Instead of getting scared and running away, as I probably would have done, she and her son crept closer and closer to the house. The noises continued – and to her it sounded like a trapped animal.
Cautiously, she got closer to the house. She tried the front door, and found it unlocked. She motioned for her son to follow her, and together they entered the house. To her chagrin, she saw an animal cowering in the kitchen. At first, she wasn’t even sure what kind of animal it was. It was small and had almost no hair. It tried to get away from her, but it was obvious that it was very hurt. She could see all of the bones under this poor animal’s skin. She crept even closer and realized that this was some sort of smallish dog. She bent down and talked to the dog in hushed tones, trying to calm it down and trying to get close enough to pick it up. To her amazement, the little dog wagged its curly little tail, and tried to come closer to her.
The dog was dragging a front leg and a back leg, but still tried to get closer to my friend. She finally took pity on him and picked him up, as carefully as she could. Through his skin, she could feel broken ribs and was sure that at least two of his legs were broken, as well. It looked as if someone had beaten this poor dog and left it there to die.
My friend and her son quickly walked back to their own home, where she immediately put the dog in the car and took it too her vet. Sure enough, the dog had three broken ribs, two broken legs (one leg broken it two different places) and had many other things wrong with him. He was dehydrated and starved, nearly to death. He was missing a tooth, and his jaw was surely broken, as well. After x-rays, it was determined that the dog also had a crushed trachea. It seemed that whoever had done this to this poor, helpless animal had indeed tried to kill him.
My friend took this dog home after a week or so of treatment at the vet. Her vet had taken pity on her and had not charged her for the care of the dog, even though the cost of the care was extremely expensive. My friend had, of course fallen in love with this dog by then. It was discovered that this dog was probably a purebred pug, and after he started filling out and healing, turned out to be a beautiful, loving, caring dog.
This dog did have some bad habits, though, most due to his neglect and torture. He was continuously rooting through the trash to find more food. He would drink from the toilet and would soil the rugs in the house. He was also terrified of my friend’s husband, often leaving a trail of urine whenever he saw him. And he licked himself incessantly! All of these things combined to drive my friend’s husband crazy. He told my friend that she needed to find a new home for the dog, which they had named Frank (from the movie with Tommy Lee Jones and Will Smith – the name escapes me right now!) And that is where I came in.
My friend told me about Frank, and after talking to my husband, I agreed to go look at him. By this time, his hair had all come back and he had that silly pug smile. To me, he was the most beautiful dog I had seen. I called my husband and told him that I wanted to bring Frank home. He agreed, but said it should only be on a trial basis to make sure that we were all a perfect fit. So, that evening Frank came home with me – on a trial basis.
The first thing that Frank did when he got to our house was pee on the floor. Then he ran to the kitchen and knocked over the trash. After rooting in it for a minute, he ran and jumped all over our teenage son, who pushed him away and said “That dog is crazy – I hate it – take it back!”
My heart sank. Maybe he wasn’t the dog for us after all. I took him out the back door, and sat crying on the step. Frank came over to me and sat right next to me, putting his head into my lap. He looked up at me with his big brown eyes, and I was in love with him. I was convinced that, somehow, I was going to keep this dog!
Little did I know, my husband had been watching me and Frank through the door. He went and talked to our son, and let him know that he had been rude and had not even really given the dog a chance. He showed our son how Frank was lying on my lap and how I was talking to him and petting him. He convinced our son to give the dog a chance, and also let him know that it was not really even his decision to make.
A few minutes later, Frank and I went back into the house. I picked up the trash and cleaned up the potty stain. I got a couple of bowls and got some food and water for Frank, who went through both like he was sure he would never have another bite to eat or drink. Then he came into the living room with the family. He jumped up on the couch next to our son. He laid his head on our son’s lap and looked up at him with his big, brown eyes and let out a little whine. Our son looked at this amazing little dog and I believe it was at that moment that he fell in love with Frank, as well.
That was three years ago. Frank is still with us. Once he figured out that he would always have food and water, he stayed out of the trash. He began picking up tricks, sitting, lying down, “don’t touch”, and fetch, just to name a few. His favorite place to be is at the foot of our bed, or wherever I may be sitting. He now plays with the grandson’s and let these two toddlers pull on him and drag him all over the house and lay all over him. For their trouble, Frank kisses their little faces until they howl with laughter.
He still has his problems. If we do not use his crate when we leave the house, he will howl and cry until we return. If we take too long to return, even if he is in his crate, he scratches at the walls and the bottom of the crate, trying to escape. Loud noises – especially men yelling or shouting – will cause him to cower. And he still licks himself incessantly. But, all in all, he is the most wonderful dog I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He’s my Frankie!
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